The True King of Nightmares
by Thill751
Summary: Recently defeated by the beast we all know as Jason Voorhees, Freddy must now figure out a way to climb back up the ladder of power and get revenge on both the children of Elm Street as well as Jason for humiliating him. Who will his new pawn be? Will his plan work, or will it end up a bigger mess than before? Join Freddy as he experiences the true nature of Hallows Eve.
1. Chapter 1

The Shape lurks around every corner, in the nooks and crannies of your mind; waiting for something...waiting for its chance to strike. Haddonfield knows the Shape well, after all, over 150 of its people have fallen to the soulless knife wielding demon. The shape is far from human, and all those who underestimate it and call it only human...will find out the hard way the true meaning of a nightmare.

The battle at Camp Crystal Lake was long and fierce, seemingly stuck at a standstill for minutes until the two literally tore each other to shreds, neither seeming to win. However, neither could truly die, so Freddy Krueger was sent back into the prison of his mind, and Jason left to regenerate. Freddy is understandably furious at his defeat at the hands of Jason. "That son of a bi**h is gonna pay, I'll make sure he does. NOBODY HUMILIATES ME!" He paces back and forth through the familiar and hated boiler room, the room where he gained his strange powers over nightmares. "If only there was someone else...someone else who had the ability to defeat that slow ret***d child." Freddy ponders to himself, claws clicking thoughtfully against the metal side of a boiler. Boredom quickly overcomes his thoughts of revenge, and Freddy growls deep in his throat, how was he supposed to find a victim trapped in here?

Hours later, an answer to his predicament enters the dream world, oblivious to the pain and horror he is about to experience. The teenage boy looks around inquisitively, fear starting to take hold in his mind. Freddy grins wickedly, and lets loose a terrible laugh, meant to send shivers down your back. The boy yelps and takes off in a random direction. Freddy smirks at the boys' action "You're a squirmy little son of a bi*** aren'tcha?" Freddy teleports directly in front of the poor boy, skillfully grabbing him by the throat, cutting off his air supply. "Tsk tsk...I was just wondering when someone would come and visit poor old Freddy! Welcome to my world BIT**!" Freddy snarls like a rabid dog, his voice ragged and full of menace. He tosses the boy through the air, and he lands in a heap on the cold hard cement floor. A cracking of ribs can be heard and the boy coughs and groans in pain, desperately trying to raise himself onto his feet. "What a miserable piece of dung you are...can't even fight back." Freddy taunts, holding one of his sharp claws to the boys' throat. The boy bravely responds with defiance in his sharp blue eyes as blood drips from his lips. "You are nothing compared to the Boogeyman." In response, Freddy cackles, holding his ribcage because of his intense laughing fit. He then proceeds to wrap the boy in electrical wires with his power, effectively trapping the helpless teenager. "Kiddo, I hate to break it to you...but there is NO SUCH THING AS THE BOOGEYMAN!" The boy knows he is going to die, knows there is no waking up from this nightmare; yet he decides to do something quite reckless. "You're wrong...the Boogeyman is real, and his name is Michael Myers. He lives in Haddonfield. You are nothing compared to him." Freddy feels a flicker of curiosity, tinged with rage that this kid would dare taunt him. " Really? If this so called Boogeyman does exist, he is merely human, and I am a God, a God who controls your deepest fears." The kid laughs, pissing off Freddy, and says "Michael is no human...he is the Devil incarnate, he can not be killed, but I'm guessing you can." Freddy has had enough of this kids defiance, and snaps his fingers. The electrical wires holding the boy come to life, sparks flying while screams fill the musty air of the boiler room. The boys' screams of pain quickly die, leaving Freddy alone with his thoughts. "If what the boy says is true, and this supposed "Boogeyman" Michael Myers is real...he would be the perfect pawn to take down Elm Street and bring me back to power once and for all!" he mutters to himself, his thoughts swirling with excitement at the prospect of freedom. He paces the boiler room planning, scheming to make sure NOTHING goes wrong this time...his control must be perfect this time around, can't have another failed attempt like Jason. A wicked grin lights up Freddy's face as his plan is finalized and he clicks his finger knives together in anticipation of the excitement and spilt blood ahead.

Weaving through the fabric of the dream world and limbo, Freddy makes his way steadily towards what he thinks may be his new pawn. Soon enough, a figure appears in the silver mist sitting on a wooden chair staring at a pumpkin? 'The boy never said the Boogeyman was a loon.' thought Freddy as he smirked at this ridiculous behavior. Freddy stays just out of sight examining his target to make sure he would be able to work to his use. 'A Lot bigger than I imagined, and quite muscular. Strange though how he is obsessed with that pumpkin, maybe I could use that to my advantage somehow.' Mind decided, Freddy makes his presence known, stepping up to Michael while clicking his prized knives together. However, Michael takes no notice of Freddy, his gaze glued to the jack-o-lantern. Freddy pretends not to notice, although internally he is enraged by Michael's ignorance. "I've heard much about you Michael Myers...you seem to have gained a reputation as the Boogeyman. I could use an immortal such as you on my side to spread the fear to the farthest reaches of the earth! EVERYONE would know our names and you wouldn't have to be trapped here!" The only response Freddy receives is a silent turn of the head and an icy cold gaze devoid of any light, sending chills down even Freddy's spine. Freddy groans inwardly, 'Of course it has to be another retard who can't speak!' although he doesn't say so out loud. "Halloween is coming up, and seeing as you don't have any relatives alive, wouldn't a trip somewhere else bring a little excitement? There are some teens on Elm Street who need to be taught a lesson, a lesson on manners." Silence fills the air for several seconds as The Shape considers this request. After a few seconds of tense silence, Michael turns once again to Freddy slowly and cocks his head as if asking a question. "I don't understand your silence, but if you're asking why I need you it's because those fools trapped me in this limbo. They burned me alive and watched as I suffered! Now tell me if you're going to help or not!" Michael stands up slowly yet deliberately, eyes trained on Freddy's as he towers over the shorter legend sending a silent message of 'don't mess with me.' Freddy instinctively clenches his fists, ready to fight but Michael only nods and exits the limbo, preparing for the upcoming bloodbath.

Freddy is left to ponder the wisdom of choosing Michael as his pawn, after all, there was something deep within Michael that was much darker than Freddy had expected. 'How could a human be so emotionless? He cared none for the conversation or threat I posed, in fact he seemed rather bored. Ugh! I'm thinking too much about this, he stands no chance against me in my own world, if I could defeat Jason in my world this killer wanna-be will be in for a shock!'

The Shape awakens in pitch darkness, yet it feels no surprise nor does it feel fear, for the darkness was where it was born and where it would return. Standing up, the Shape takes in its' surroundings of dirt and rotten boards. Its' last encounter with the police and townspeople of Haddonfield left Michael in the bottom of an abandoned mineshaft broken and battered. However, time heals all wounds and for Michael, he had all the time in the world. Its' pale white scarred hands grasp at the hard dirt, clawing his way back towards the light that promises new bloodshed. Squinting its' eyes against the bright sunlight beaming through the boarded up cracks of the entrance as it readjusts its' grip on the edge of the pit. Using one hand to smash the wooden planks to pieces, it quickly pulls itself out into the light of day where it evaluates its' next move. Its' icy gaze takes in the area, looking for threats or possible opportunities. Luckily, nobody was around to see its escape from the void, so it quickly hides in the shadows of the woods behind it. Next, it must retrieve a weapon, preferably a long kitchen knife for its purposes. With the skill of a trained hunter, Michael makes his way through the woods silently, on alert for any nearby opportunities. Soon enough, he reaches a small ring of houses surrounded by the woods and effectively separated from the city. After carefully observing each house, he finds one that appears to be unlocked and the occupants either gone or asleep. Stealthily, he opens the door on silent hinges and enters into the quaint little home. Searching quietly, he quickly finds the kitchen and begins to search the drawers, opening each with caution. Soon enough, he finds exactly what he is looking for and pockets it while creeping back to the safety of the woods. Next up, Elm Street!


	2. Chapter 2

Freddy watches intently as Michael begins to show his prowess in hunting. 'Interesting...he moves much more gracefully than Jason could ever hope to, mind focused on his task. This will definitely come in handy when convincing the townspeople that it is truly me.' Claws clicking together thoughtfully, he follows Michael as he makes his way steadily towards Elm Street. However it is many miles away and Freddy isn't quite sure how Michael plans to make it there in a timely matter. 'S**t, it'll take him days to get there and I can't wait that long!' Freddy snarls impatiently. Michael looks back directly at Freddy causing him to freeze in shock, but just as immediately he turns away and stalks towards a gas station with a lone car parked in it. 'Alright, that was unexpected. If he can see me, there may be some problems…' Freddy thinks to himself, carefully keeping an eye on Michael to determine whether or not he truly saw him. However, Michael keeps walking straight ahead, appearing to not have seen Krueger. 'That's very good...I see what that little sleaze ball has in mind." The shape forges ahead, careful to make sure it's stalker doesn't realize that it knows he is there. Approaching the gas station, it falls into a hunting crouch, eyes observing and studying the building to find openings or threats. After around 25 minutes of careful observing it begins to close the distance with a confident gait, footsteps completely silent. Entering a hidden cellar door, it pauses to listen for any signs that a patron or owner may have heard its' entrance. After a second, it begins to move again, heading towards the stairs when it notices a shape move in the shadows. Head cocked to the side and with its' knife held firmly in its' grasp The Shape approaches the moving shadow and finds a young teenager bound in chains and covered in blood thrashing around on a soiled mattress. Without hesitating, the Shape leans down and grabs the girl by the hair as she struggles to scream through her mouth gag, it rips open her stomach with one clean slice, intestines and organs falling out in an instant. The light in the girl's eyes flickers in pain before completely snuffing out. The Shape continues on as if nothing had occurred, walking up the stairway with all the grace of a hunting feline. Carefully opening the door, it confidently walks into the dusty station, finding nobody in the main area. Cocking its' head, it discovers a faint hum of music appearing to come from behind a door that appears to lead into a garage. Changing direction, The Shape opens the aged door and is immediately blasted by metal music. Gazing around the room, its' predatory eyes land on a pair of feet sticking out from underneath a truck on a lift. Struck with inspiration, The Shape approaches the controls of the lift, and with inhuman strength crushes the down button sending the lift along with the truck down onto the clueless owner. "Wait, WTF!" is the only thing the poor guy is able to hear before it the truck crushes his entire body, shattering every bone and sending crimson blood across the floor. Making one last check, it heads back into the station and finding nobody it grabs the keys from the counter and takes the owner's car. Freddy is stunned by the level of carnage and lack of emotions that his new pawn is showing. 'How is it possible for somebody to have no fear, no emotion at all?' This completely perplexes Freddy, a monster whose purpose is to feed on fear. 'Without emotion, what is Michael's purpose for killing at all? He can't enjoy it or relish their deaths…' The one thing that did amuse him though was the sight of the captive girl at which he laughed and said to himself, "Everyone has their dirty little secret, I guess it got boring waiting for non-existent customers to come through the door." Thoughts once again spinning, Freddy is caught off guard by the sudden sound of a vehicle and is astonished to see Michael driving. 'Huh, I guess that solves our little problem of getting to Elm Street.' Freddy's spirit jumps into the vehicle and prepares for the next few hours. 


	3. Chapter 3

The Shape carefully makes his way towards his destination, with only one task in mind; killing as many as possible. Within a matter of hours and only a few delays, it finally reaches the cursed street being careful to park away from any wandering eyes. Shifting once again into stalking mode, it slips into the shadows eyes observing the passing people. For the next few hours it observes the patterns and life of the people on Elm Street, taking in every single detail and memorizing the people. The teenagers are oblivious to the new and old threats, continuing to horse around and get into mischief; however there is one teen who grew up in Haddonfield and only just moved to Elm Street, thinking it was safer. However, her fear of Halloween still followed her to Elm Street and she doesn't join in on the festivities, remember the past years of terror rather than fun.

"Hey Cathy! Why aren't you going trick or treating? At midnight Josh is hosting a Halloween party at his house! It's going to be all anyone's going to talk about!" Chatters an especially excited girl named Rita to her best friend who has had a bit too much of Halloween. "I'm sorry Rita, but after what happened in my hometown...I just can't!" Cathy responds fearfully, the memories of the past still haunting her. "Oh come on Cathy, don't be a wimp! It's not like the Boogeyman is going to snatch you up and eat ya!" Chuckles a dark haired boy named Roy who unfortunately isn't the brightest of bulbs. In response Cathy just sighs and pushes Roy away before saying something. "You wouldn't understand, even if I told you guys what happened you wouldn't believe me." Rita rolls her eyes and responds, "Try us Cathy!" Cathy slows down and sighs before explaining, "In my old hometown, Haddonfield, there was a serial killer named Michael Myers who killed over 100 citizens over the course of several years on Halloween. No matter what the officials tried, he wouldn't die…" Roy laughs disrespectfully and sneers, "good try Cathy, but that wasn't a very original Halloween story." Cathy looks to Rita for any sign of belief, but Rita too is snickering. "Really Cathy? I thought you would have been a better storyteller." Dejectedly, Cathy starts to tear up and with betrayal in her beautiful brown eyes runs away from her supposed friends. "Cathy! Come back! We were just joking...come on!" Rita shouts, confused about why Cathy was so upset by their comments.

Meanwhile, The Shape is watching their exchange of words and is immediately fixed on Cathy, who of course knows all about him. Being careful to stay out of sight, he follows her as she makes her way back home, tear tracks still running down her face.

Carefully following its' new target, Michael slips into the shadows as it follows the distraught girl back to her quaint little two story house.

"Cathy? What's wrong sweetheart?" asks a middle aged woman who's currently gardening and is most likely Cathy's mother as Cathy approaches.

Cathy shrugs dejectedly and replies with her eyes still wet as she walks past her mother."Nothing mom...I just wish I wasn't so afraid of what happened in Haddonfield."

"Cathy! We're far away from that horrible man, you don't need to be afraid anymore." Cathy's mother says in an attempt to sooth her daughter.

Cathy stops in her tracks, a sudden anger lighting up her face as she spins around and says, "How the hell are you so damn calm about what happened? Dozens of people lost their lives to that maniac and still you haven't learned!"

Speechless, her mother is left stunned as Cathy rampages into the house. Slamming the door behind her, Cathy races up the staircase to her new room still packed with several boxes of assorted sizes. With a rush, she jumps onto her bed and plops down with a huff.

Watching intently the entire time, The Shape tilts its' head to the side, quite interested in the entire conversation. If it is to get away with its' plans, these people and their knowledge of him must die. Taking care to steer clear of the windows and avoid anything that might give it away, Michael makes his way around the house to begin his slaughter.

Slipping his trusty kitchen knife from his pocket, he expertly cuts the phone lines as well as the security system; leaving the unsuspecting family defenseless. Next, it finds the perfect entrance...the cellar. Slinking into the comforting darkness, it closes the double doors silently, leaving no trace of his presence on the property. Meanwhile, the unsuspecting family are eating their dinner right above Michael.

Cathy is still sullen, picking at her food rather than eating it. This attracts the attention of her father who asks with concern, "honey, are you alright?"

Cathy jerks to attention, apparently lost in her own world before responding. "Yea, i'm fine dad…"

Cathy's father isn't convinced with this and places a hand on her back soothingly, "If you're worried about Halloween this year, I have the perfect solution!"

This manages to catch Cathy's attention and she sits up slightly straighter, "what is it?"

"How about instead of going trick or treating, you join your mother and me handing out the candy!" Her father smiles and pats her on the back.

Her mother then adds on, "That way you won't be in danger, and you still get to meet a bunch of people!"

Cathy shrugs and jabs her fork into a pesky meatball on her plate before responding, "Yeah. Josh is having a party tonight and I really wanted to go to that."

Both parents grimace at the same time, exchanging glances of concern. "I don't think that's the greatest idea...remember what happened with Jake and Todd's party?"

Cathy groans with annoyance and replies, "That was a complete accident! Jake was being a moron while Todd was trying to stop him, that doesn't mean anything for me!"

Cathy's father tries to reason with Cathy, "We just don't want you involved with those kind of people honey…

This enrages Cathy who stands up abruptly, glaring daggers at both of her parents. "Fine! If you want me to be a social outcast for the rest of my life, you've fucking succeeded!" This leaves her parents stunned as she once again rushes to her bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

Making its' first move, Michael silently opens the cellar door and enters into the laundry room, keeping an ear out for any sign that its' entrance was noticed. Hearing nothing suspicious it continues into the hallway and decides to go for the parents first; this decided, it purposely knocks over an antique vase before vanishing into an empty closet.

Both parents are still at the dinner table murmuring about what just happened and what they should do about it. "She's just going through a tough time sweetheart, it's a phase everybody goes through." Whispers her father, unfazed by Cathy's rage.

Her mother however is still shocked by the conversation, her blue eyes filled with worry as she responds to her husband. "She should be past all of that nonsense in Haddonfield by now! Michael has never left for any reason, and she was only 8 when it occurred. Tell me that's not natural?"

The father replies with little concern in his voice, "You know how tall tales are spread around Haddonfield, she probably just heard one too many."

The mother is about to retort when the sound of something large breaking startles them from their argument. The husband sighs, scooting his chair out from the table and as he walks away says to his wife, "I better go check it out, and don't worry about Cathy so much, she's seventeen after all!"

The man's heavy footsteps alert Michael to the incoming target, and it hides farther in the confines of the closet, hidden by jackets and raincoats. The only sound of its' presence is the soft sound of his breathing as it waits like a cat hunting a mouse, ready to pounce at any given moment.

The father is completely unaware of the all too familiar killer's presence in his house, crouching down to inspect the shards of porcelain. "Ugh! This was my grandmother's favorite vase...my mother is going to be so pissed at me." he grunts, standing back up only to find himself face to face with a white mask that was all too familiar.

With the precision of a snake, Michael grabs the two hundred and fifty pound man by the throat and easily lifts him off his feet like a ragdoll. The only sounds the man can make as his airway is being crushed is a thin gurgle, kicking and squirming to escape the killer's grasp. Michael locks eyes with the man, his cold emotionless eyes seeming to stare into his soul with a coldness that shouldn't have been possible before he smashes him into the table the vase had been on. Shards of wood pierce through the man's back as it breaks beneath his weight and the force he hit it with, unable to cry out for help. Michael only watches, his eyes locked on the man as he struggles to crawl away, blood pouring from his wounds. Hearing the voice of the woman, Michael easily catches up with the man, slowly crushing his skull beneath his boot, his groans of pain subsiding as he dies a slow and extremely brutal death.

The woman who was still at the table hears the commotion from down the hallway as she is about to go talk to Cathy, and calls out "Honey, what happened?" Hearing no response, she goes to see what the commotion was all about when she runs straight into a dark figure. Thinking it's her husband she let's out a sigh of relief before her eyes meet the all too familiar mask. "Really John? If you think this is going to help Cathy well I won't let you do it!" The figure gives no response, and as the silence drags on she slowly becomes more unnerved. "John...honey, this isn't funny at all! Stop it!"

She starts to back away slowly, her eyes betraying her terror as the large ominous figure takes slow and steady steps towards her. Her fight or flight instinct kicks in and she turns to run, but before she can Michael has a grip on her long brown hair, jerking her to a painful stop. Struggling to escape, the unfortunate mother screams in pure terror but is cut off by its' hand wrapped around her mouth. Now with both hands on her head, it begins to twist, and with the sound of ripping flesh, breaks her neck and tears it off. Blood splatters both the wall and Michael, as her body drops limply to the ground.

Its' attention now turns towards the staircase, listening carefully for Cathy trying to escape; however strangely enough, there has been no sound at all coming from upstairs.

Making its' way up the stairs carefully, it rounds the corner to find Cathy's door wide open and light spilling through. Being careful not to be seen or heard, it passes the doorway and catches a glimpse of Cathy listening to music on her bed. That explains why she didn't hear the scream of her mother or the table.

Opening the door with a crash, Michael strides towards the startled girl, his eyes meet hers and all hell breaks loose. The girl dives off her bed just as Michael swings downwards with his knife, embedding it in the bed instead of her chest. Cathy darts towards the door, only to be blocked by Michael's imposing figure standing in the doorway.

Thinking quickly, Cathy grabs the nearest object which happens to be a metal statue and chucks it at his head. It connects with a thud, momentarily distracting Michael as Cathy runs by him.

Cathy is breathing heavily, fear being the only thing left keeping her alive. As she runs down the stairs, she unfortunately stumbles, and crashes on the floor at the bottom. Groaning she struggles to get back on her feet just as Michael reaches for her. His firm grip clasps around her throat and she attempts to kick him in the nuts as he raises her to eye level. The last thing she sees is his cold dead eyes as the knife enters her heart and pins her to the wall, her blood dripping from her mouth and heart.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello everyone who's reading this! I am just here to say thank you for the support and the attention! I know horror stories are a rare thing nowadays so I'm glad some people are still interested! I would also like to state that this chapter is written in Loomis's point of view so it is written a little differently! Hope you enjoy! :)_

Meanwhile back in Haddonfield, Dr. Loomis waits anxiously at his desk waiting for the all too familiar call that Michael was once again free and roaming the streets of Haddonfield. "Nobody understands you Michael...not even me. Nobody knows when you will awake, or for what reason, why?" he mumbles under his breath, absentmindedly rubbing his burn on the side of his face.

It still puzzled him why he had hadn't noticed the evil earlier, perhaps it was just denial that an "innocent" child could ever be completely evil. Maybe it was just his selfish desire to "cure" him. Whatever had happened, it had allowed for a monster of unimaginable evil to rise from whatever pits of hell it came from.

He knew instinctively that something was off, he just couldn't put his finger on what... "Loomis? You have a caller on line 4, he says it's an emergency only you could understand." says a young clerk shuffling from foot to foot nervously. This immediately catches Loomis's attention and he quickly grabs his cane and hobbles towards the door. "Thank you Lucille, I have a terrible feeling I know what this is about." Hobbling painfully fast, he rushes to the nearest phone as dread runs through his veins. Picking the phone up he says urgently, "Yes, what is it? Is Michael free?" The man on the other side of the phone is just as urgent and fearful, "I believe so...but my fellow officers don't believe me and I'm not sure if you will either since well...he's not in Haddonfield anymore."

Stunned, Loomis stays silent for a moment trying to understand the situation. Not in Haddonfield? Why would Michael leave Haddonfield so suddenly, and for what purpose? "No, I believe you. Can you explain?" Loomis says hoping against odds that Michael hasn't actually left. The man on the other line sounds relieved as he replies, "There have been several murders in the past two hours. The first was discovered 20 miles out of town in a gas station...the bodies were horrifically mutilated in unique ways that I have only ever seen Michael do-" I interrupt, "Can you describe it more specifically?" The man replies, "Of course, the owner of the station was found crushed underneath one of the trucks he was working on...the down button on the button crushed into pieces." Chills run through my body, only Michael could have done that. "Then it was no accident." I say and the man agrees, "no, but my fellow officers have deemed it so...despite my misgivings." I grunt in anger, "That seems to be a common occurrence with Michael. Alright, where did the next set of murders happen?"

The man takes a deep breath and continues, "His next victims were a family of three on Elm Street; father, mother, and a daughter. All three were born and raised in Haddonfield. Each of them were stabbed multiple times, and the father was found with his skull crushed and pieces of wood impaled into his body." That definitely sounds like Michael. " Did you inform the local police of your suspicions?" I ask and the man replies with annoyance, "Of course, but they said they already knew who did it, and wouldn't even look at my evidence!" Rubbing my head in frustration, I tell him "Wait for me, I'll be there within two hours and whatever you do DON'T go after him alone." "Of course...I don't have a death wish!"

With that taken care of, I hang up the phone and I return to my office to grab some useful items. I of course grab my pistol and even though it will only stun him for a short time, it's better than nothing I suppose. I also grab a Taser and a few sedatives for if we get extremely lucky. You continue to surprise me Michael...who knew you would ever leave Haddonfield?


	6. Chapter 6

**_This is just a warning but there is a lot of cursing in this chapter!_**

Lights flash and music blares as the annual high school Halloween takes place in the house of one of the most popular boys at Elm High. "Hey Josh, sick party am I right? Can't wait for you to bring out the good stuff!" Shouts one stoned kid, stumbling and attempting to talk with the much more respected senior. "Fuck off kiddo, you don't have the balls to keep up with me." Snarls Josh, quarterback of Elm High's football team and all around respected partyer. He shoves past the kid, sauntering up to a group of cheerleaders, immediately stirring up giggles and flirting. "Hey Josh, where's the weed? I heard you had a stash up in your bedroom!" winks one of the prettier girls, rubbing against him and getting what should have been uncomfortably close, but Josh was lapping it up. "Of course babe! Why don't we go check it out, just the two of us." He whispers, as he kisses her ear and gently leads her by the arm to his bedroom and away from prying eyes.

However unbeknownst to any of the drunken partygoers, two well known killers are watching their every action. Freddy is grinning from ear to ear as he watches these all too familiar teens getting their groove going, drinking themselves half to insanity. "Perfect, this is just the place to stir up enough fear to get myself going again…" he smirks, cruel amusement lighting up his face. The Shape however, has a slightly different plan.

Carefully observing the building itself, he notices that the building is quite aged and much of its electrical and other necessities are also quite out of date. Slinking from the shadows, he gracefully begins his well crafted plan; with no stabbing involved.

Weaving in between passed out teenagers in the backyard, he finds a large enough window into the basement that he can fit into before dropping inside silently. Nobody is none the wiser. It takes a few minutes for him to find exactly what he's looking for, but when he does his plan begins to fall into place like a charm.

Taking his bloodied knife, he easily slices open the boiler and several of the gas lines. Predicting what will happen next, he makes a quick getaway, leaving through the same window he entered in.

Back at the party, several teens are already high, smoking several joints as chaos ensues. "Hey man, did ya hear about what happened down the street?" slurs one extremely drunk senior to his neighbor who happens to be knocked out. "I know right! That bitch was a hoe, shoulda come to the party…" he says, unaware that his buddy didn't say anything. "Hey, I also heard that the pervert gas manager down the highway was crushed by his own truck, I swear, karma is a bitch." After this the poor guy falls asleep as well, unaware of the consequences of his actions.

Josh finally emerges from his bedroom, clothes ruffled and a cocky grin on his face. "That was amazing sweetheart, how about you call me after the party and I can hook you up!" he winks as the girl giggles and slaps him gently on the arm, "you know it baby!" The two kiss passionately before being interrupted by a drunken jock crashing into them. Josh snarls at the oblivious guy, angry at his fun being interrupted. "Watch it Sid!Or you'll be the next one being kicked out." Sid grins and slurs in response, "dude, you HAVE to try some of the hard stuff in the basement...Shelly brought it." Josh rolls his eyes but starts for the basement nonetheless. "Come with me darling, I don't want someone like Sid roughing you up." The girl loyally follows Josh as he lights a smoke and heads towards what Sid said contained the good stuff.

The steps creak eerily as the new couple lazily make their way downstairs, unaware of the danger hidden in the murky darkness. "Shit, I told my parents we needed new lighting down here...cheap asses." Josh grumbles as he flicks the light switch on and off. Undeterred, he opens his phone and blindly makes his way towards the other side of the basement.

It only takes one slip up,one mistake to end your life. Josh made the mistake of smoking in an area filled with flammable gas and everything he owns and everything he has explodes in a fiery ball of light.

Nobody survives, except for Michael, watching with cold uncaring eyes as the house burns and collapses in on itself. Taking with it the lives of several teens who had their entire lives left.


	7. Chapter Seven

It doesn't take long for the Haddonfield police department to show up, and what they find shocks them all. "It's just...gone! The entire house leveled...no survivors." mutters one incredulous officer to another as the fire department continues to fight the blazing inferno. The other cop responds with clear confusion, "Do you think this was done by...you know who?" The first officer snorts and shakes his head, "nah, their deaths were too quick and didn't allow for fear to rise...my guess is this is just an unfortunate accident caused by a few drunken teens." the other officer looks suspicious but doesn't say any more. Once the flames have died down, it is very clear that body parts and blood have been strewn all over, charred to the bones. "Never in all my life have I seen such a gruesome sight…" gags one of the younger officers, rushing off to puke. Everybody is silent, taking in the true devastation of the house. What could have happened to cut the lives of these unsuspecting teens so soon?

Unbeknownst to the naive and inexperienced officers, Freddy himself is watching with fire in his rageful eyes. " How dare he?... HOW DARE THAT SILENT RETARDED MOTHERFUCKER RUIN MY HARD WORK! HOW DARE HE HUMILIATE ME!" He roars, voice gravelly and hard. Pacing back and forth, Freddy curses Michael and himself for attempting the same strategy as last time when he suddenly stops, a manic grin lighting up his face. "It could work… and I would kill two birds with one stone! Perfect!" he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. Grinning from ear to ear, Freddy disappears into the dream world muttering "Let's see how hockey puck handles the Boogeyman at his front door…"

Back at the crime scene, what remains of the bodies are put into body bags and hauled away. Cops and firefighters surround the perimeter, scouring for clues to solve what might have occurred when a tan car pulls up and an older man with a cane hobbles out.

The old man peers around at the wreckage, a frown quickly growing on his face when an officer approaches him. "You must be Dr. Loomis, thank you for showing up… do you think he did this?" Loomis gives a hard look at the officer, before responding "undoubtedly, an explosion of this size could only be caused by 2 possibilities; long time gas leakage, or cut gas lines." The officer, who happens to be the same one who originally called says quietly, "despite my urging, the fire department has already deemed this an accident and my superiors won't even look at my evidence." Looking sympathetic Loomis nods, "As is often the case whenever Michael is involved...we'll just have to do this ourselves." Alarmed, the officer stutters before saying "He's your problem, not mine! I'm not going to risk my life hunting down an immortal." Turning around, Loomis scowls, his voice hard and raspy, "it'll be everyone's problem if we don't delay him now! Do you want more people to end up this way?" The officer glances back at the flattened and charred house and shivers. "alright… I'm coming. What weapon works best against him?" Loomis turns back to the car as he replies coolly, "Anything that'll knock him back for at least a few seconds...that's all we can hope for." Loomis driving, the pair begins their search for the wandering legend.

Driving down the back roads, the pair finally get acquainted. "I didn't have time to tell you my name earlier, I'm Officer Jackson." Loomis nods absentmindedly while trying to peer through the darkness of the night. "You already know who I am. If people listened in the first place, none of this would be happening." Jackson nods, carefully shining his spotlight in every nook and cranny. "people don't want to believe in something they don't understand." Loomis grunts in agreement before silence fills the air, and he ponders "What could Michael be up to now?"


	8. Chapter 8

The Shape lurks through the shadows with ease, slinking from place to place without arousing any suspicion. Stopping for a moment, its' gaze rests on an all too familiar face trying to peer through the darkness from a car; Loomis, the only person to truly know his potential. Before Loomis can spot him however, he steps back and disappears behind several buildings, his emotionless gaze steadily fixed on Loomis the entire time, calculating his next move.

Once Michael was sure he was far enough away, it resumed its steady pace towards an unknown location, eyes flickering side to side for any unsuspecting victims. Soon enough, it's deadly gaze rests on two passed out drunks, snoozing peacefully unaware of the danger. Changing direction with finesse, Michael is illuminated by a streetlight for less than a second before wrapping its hand around the nearest drunks throat. Eyes snapping open in a drunken alarm, the man can't even fight back against the alert killer as his trachea is slowly crushed like a soda can, blood dripping from his lips and his breathing becomes laborious. With a sickening crunch, the life is squeezed from the unknown drunken man as his partner obliviously snoozes on.

Michael ruthlessly moves on to the next man, this time severing his throat in one clean slice it watches with emotionless eyes as the man wakes up gurgling and choking on his own blood, fear filling the air; soon enough his own body stills and his light dies out and Michael turns to continue his bloody rampage.

Incredibly, he is immediately met by a pair of smiling girls wearing pristine white dresses; marred only by rips made from what appears to claws. As soon as they notice it has spotted them, they hold hands and start singing in sweet innocent voices a twisted nursery rhyme.

"One two, Freddy's coming for you. Three four, better lock your door-"

At this point Michael attempts to stab one of the girls only for them to appear behind him and continue singing; grins growing inhumanely large as he follows their every movement like a cat watching a mouse.

"Five six, grab a crucifix." They both giggle loudly as they sing the last line.

"Nine Ten, never sleep AGAIN!" The sweet little voices morph into something demonic as they roar the last and final line; the surroundings changing into the glowing red boiler room of children's nightmares.

Michael remains as emotionless and unfazed as it always does, turning its head almost robotically to scan and analyze the room. This behavior only angers Freddy more as his temper reaches a boiling point. He approaches Michael with eyes aflame and fists clenched, ready to start swinging. "How dare you steal what is mine...I gave you direct orders and just like Hockey Puck you managed to fuck it up. Actually, you didn't fuck it up, YOU DESTROYED WHAT LITTLE FEAR THEY HAD OF ME YOU RETARDED SILENT COCK SUCKER!"

Most people would have cringed or fled in fear at this display of rage and anger, but Michael isn't most people. The entire time Freddy vents, his eyes stay locked with Freddy's, growing colder and darker with each fiery word that is sent his way. Cocking his head to the side as if curious as to why he is so full of rage, but is really examining Freddy's weaknesses and strategies.

Michael's silence also serves to make Freddy almost froth with hatred as he spits out, "WHY IS IT THAT EVERY PAWN I CHOOSE HAS TO A SILENT RETARD THAT CAN'T FOLLOW ORDERS? I SIMPLY TOLD YOU TO KILL A FEW KIDS AND WHAT DID YOU DO? BLEW THEM FUCKING SKY HIGH."

With his anger vented, Freddy chuckles as Michael approaches with slow steady steps. "You know what freak? You're in my world now and here; I control everything."

Michael continues approaching, but to his confusion doesn't make any progress. Freddy snickers and with the flick of his wrist sends Michael crashing into the side of a boiler. The impact leaves a dent and Michael is sent to his knees. However, it gets back up just as quickly, resuming its pace towards Freddy.

Freddy growls low in his throat as the man before him shows no signs of submission. "What will it take to get it through your thick skull that you're just a pawn?!" Michael, still moving in place, reacts to this by throwing his knife into Freddy's heart. Freddy groans comically as he falls to his knees exaggeratedly. "Oh no, whatever am I to do?!" Michael tilts his head in slight surprise at the man's antics. Why didn't he die? Freddy stands up with a cocky smirk on his face as he removes the knife with no blood and tosses it across the room as Michael watches intently.

Unbeknownst to Michael, Freddy is buying time to gain control over his body; forcing him to drive towards another old friend that could perhaps be the solution to end both Michael and the mystery "friend". "Did you really think it would be that easy Michael? You're in my world now BITCH!" Freddy snarls, launching himself at the beast before him with his clawed hand ready to tear.


	9. Chapter 9

Before we get back into the story, I would like to say thank you to everyone who's reading this, and sorry for the long waits between chapters. Being in high school and having a job means that I can only work on this in the very limited free time I have. This chapter especially was difficult because I am admittedly not very good at fight scenes, and this took several revisions to get close to what I was envisioning. Thanks for understanding, and hope you enjoy!

The scene quickly shifts from the bright red boiler room, into something Michael is more familiar with; his house on the night he killed Judith. Michael tilts his head side to side, curiously examining the all too familiar house before him. Striding carefully towards the side of the house he peers into the same window he looked in on that fateful night all those years ago, and finds that Judith is once again fucking her boyfriend on the couch. Michael's eyes grow darker as he goes back around to the front door, using his shoulder to send the door crashing to the floor into jagged pieces. However, Judith has disappeared, as well as her sluttish boyfriend. Its grip tightens on its knife as it approaches the couch and stares down at the familiar clown mask that seems to be staring at him. Memories from long ago rise back up to the surface of his mind, distracting him momentarily. A piercingly shrill voice forces Michael to swing his head around and discovers Judith covered in stab wounds, blood trailing down her body just as it had that fateful night as she shouts manically at him, "YOU KILLED ME, YOU KILLED ME, YOU KILLED ME MICHAEL, I WAS YOUR SISTER YOU DUMB RETARDED FUCK!" While slashing at him with the exact same kitchen knife he had used on her. Despite numerous gashes across its chest, Michael continues unfazed and uses his own knife to rip open her throat.

To his bewilderment, she only cackles with laughter as torrents of thick red blood gushes down her throat and stains her frilled shirt. "You fucking idiot, you can't kill what's already dead!" she snarls, as Michael clenches his fists, eyes swimming with an uncontrollable darkness. If you were to look into his eyes at this moment, all you would find is hell itself, ready to drag you down into its depths. He approaches her again, muscles tense and knife ready to tear her to pieces. Before he can swing again, the scenery shifts again, this time to a catastrophic car crash in the middle of nowhere. Surveying the area, Michael takes in the raging inferno that was once a car and a slightly charred body that looks quite familiar. The body begins twitching and laughing, slowly getting up despite the numerous injuries that should have incapacitated her; Laurie. Michael's confusion grows as Laurie approaches him with one arm missing and the rest of her charred. "You failed Michael, you failed to find me and kill me before death caught up with me. You are a failure of a killer." She clutches at his mechanic suit as blood pours from her mouth all over him. Michael feels a tap on his shoulder and spins around slashing his knife at whatever touched him. "Hello Michael, long time no see; looks like your actions have finally caught up with you." Says a grim, younger version of Loomis as he takes aim with his trusty pistol. Deafening thunderclaps roar as the pistol fires six shots into Michael's chest and sends it stumbling backwards yet still upright. "It would be easier to just die Michael." Loomis smirks, disappearing into the fog swirling all around them like waiting predators, waiting to pounce.

Shaking its head slightly, The Shape regains its bearings, peering through the fog with eyes ablaze with fury. It takes a step forward and pauses when the sound of whispering meets his ears, gradually getting louder. Within seconds the voices are raging all around it, accusatory and rageful; howling like a hurricane Michael is bombarded by the all too familiar voices of his past victims. The intense volume of the cacophony of voices forces it to cover its ears in pain as the swirling wind of voices reaches an unbearable volume. After minutes of pure agony, Michael falls to his knees and the voices only get worse.

After what seems like hours, the voices finally die down and Michael rises to his feet, hatred brimming in its eyes as its gaze meets the face of the strangely burnt man wearing a fedora. "Trick or Treat Motherfucker." Freddy snarls, plunging his clawed knives into Michael's stomach and ripping it out just as quickly. Blood splatters across the floor but Michael makes no sounds of pain or even acknowledgment that he is irritated. Michael uses his free hand and gauges out Freddy's eyes with ease, hatred fueling its actions like never before. The only reaction Michael gets is a smirk and a punch that sends him across the room as he crashes into a heavy pipeline before collapsing to the floor. As Michael gets up slowly, the dream demon manipulates the surroundings again, sending multiple broken pipes in Michael's direction. Michael clambers to his feet only to be impaled by several of the pipes, much to Freddy's cruel amusement. His laughs echo across the entire room as Michael struggles to remove each pipe, blood pooling on the floor.

Despite his heavy blood loss and injuries, Michael maintains his composure, no sound of pain or discomfort coming from behind the emotionless mask. "You are really starting to piss me off fuck face, how about you just go to hell once and for all!" Freddy snarls before ending with a terrifying roar. Michael responds with a tilt of his head, taunting the cocky being before it. With inhuman speed, Freddy leaps at Michael eyes literally burning with pale fire, savagely clawing the emotionless mask; Michael counter-attacks and uses his arm to brutally knock Freddy back. It then takes advantage of Freddy's stunned state to strike with the precision of a cobra, knife easily tearing through Freddy's chest as its other hand rips his heart from his chest.

To Michael's dismay and Freddy's amusement, the heart continues to pump comically, causing Michael to crush it between his fingers as oozing blood drips down like water from a faucet. Even with a hole in his chest Freddy keeps on talking and taunting, "You mindless motherfucker, don't you know I'm already heartless!?" he cackles, retaliating with his powers over the dream realm. He sends Michael flying across the room like a ragdoll, impaling him on several poles of rebar, skewering him like a shish-kabob. Freddy teleports to Michael's position, raking his claws across his chest leaving several deep gashes straight to the bone. Unexpectedly, Michael head butts Freddy and rips himself off the rebar, swinging with dangerous precision as his trusty knife imbeds itself in Freddy's eye socket. Stumbling back, temporarily blinded, Michael takes the opportunity to get a firm grip on Freddy's skull and crush it like a can, sickening cracks resonating from it. Thinking quickly, Freddy uses his signature claws to slash his hand, forcing Michael to loosen his death grip. "If I didn't know any better, one might think you and Hockey Puck could be retarded twins!" Freddy snarls as he tries to think of a new tactic, "You have to be afraid of something...everyone fears something."

Michael ignores the dream demon's comments, choosing instead to grab the rebar he was recently attached to and swing a piece of it at Freddy's head. With the grace of a skilled killer, Freddy dodges it, only to be met with Michael's boot in the face. Another sickening crack resonates as his skull fractures, and nose breaks; but this is just the dream world. "I'm the one in control, don't you get it yet Captain Kirk?" He sneers, his powers again healing what should have been grievous injuries.

It doesn't react, again deciding to take action; wrapping its cold scarred hands around the dream dweller's throat effectively silencing him for the moment. In return, Freddy thrusts his clawed hand into Michael's throat, tearing a huge hole that would have killed a mortal in mere seconds. Michael's grip only tightens as blood pours from his new wound and from underneath his trusty mask. The death grip only slipping when Freddy teleports to a different location in the cursed boiler room that has led to the deaths of dozens upon dozens of children and teenagers. Freddy's voice echoes around the room, gravelly and full of malicious intent "Fine, if you wanna play dirty, I can play that game too!"

Michael's head turns slowly, scanning the room like a big cat searching for its next meal; even as Freddy prepares his next attack. Finally, its gaze rests on the familiar face of Tommy Doyle holding a small baseball bat. "You can't kill the boogeyman-" his small voice bounces around the room, echoing off the walls as he swings the bat with inhuman speed; earning a sickening crack from Michael's right knee.

In an instant the small figure disappears into the fog, only to be replaced by Loomis holding his loyal handgun. "You've fooled them, haven't you Michael?" Sending two well aimed shots into its eyes, temporarily blinding it.

Once he can see again, he is met by both Laurie and Judith; glares of hatred set on their faces as they both hold kitchen knives. "Are you afraid of us, Michael? Afraid you failed to fulfill your purpose?" Their voices are synchronized, blank as they approach Michael who now finds himself trapped by several thick chains wrapped around his arms and legs. However, it only cocks its head at the figures, infuriating Freddy that much more as the girls fade away revealing him. "How the fuck can you be so damn calm! Everybody has a fear, and if it takes me decades to discover yours, so be it!" he roars, rage overtaking his common sense as he flicks his wrist downwards.

Michael is sent to the ground with a jarring thud as the chains obey Freddy's orders, even as it breaks through several of them; new ones take their place quickly. Glancing upwards, Michael notices the now precariously swaying piece of machinery that must weigh at least a ton right over his prone body. "Try to get out of this one fucker!" Freddy comments smugly, before cackling with insanity.

With a deafening creak and the moan of metal giving away, the machine falls at a rapid pace towards the bound Boogeyman who only stares blankly at what could finally be his demise. The deafening boom that follows, and the crunching of bones signals the death of the Boogeyman as Freddy walks over cockily, eyes ablaze with victory. As Krueger's eyes meet what remains of Michael, all he sees is the right side of its body covered in blood, head twisted at an unnatural angle, and arm completely ripped out of its socket. Freddy chuckles in satisfaction, "I guess even the mighty Boogeyman couldn't defeat death itself."

As Freddy turns to leave however, he finds himself ensnared by the very much alive Michael; his hand wrapped tightly around his ankle. Michael's cold grey eyes blaze with fury as he slowly crushes his attackers ankle, dragging him back towards him. Freddy is surprised, but not caught totally off guard by this new development. "Alright then Mikey, it's about time you met an old friend of mine anyways! Wouldn't want you to miss out on having fun at summer camp now would we?" he snarls, ripping his foot off and watched as Michael slowly disappeared.

Michael opens his eyes slowly, only to find himself not in the last place he remembered. Instead, he was trapped underneath the carcass of a car it didn't even remember getting into. Shards of glass are embedded in every inch of its skin, as well as large pieces of metal that have torn several large gashes. From one large gash Its guts are hanging like rope as the flies swarm his body like miniature vultures; and if that wasn't gruesome enough, his head was going the completely wrong direction. Must have been a nasty crash.

It takes a deep breath before lashing out with one leg, sending the nearest door flying into the woods on the other side of the road with a cacophony of noise. Using its incredibly strength, it slowly drags itself like a zombie from the flipped car; carefully maneuvering far enough from the road to where it can heal for a while. Surrounded by thick trees and the sounds of content wildlife, it lets itself enter a healing trance, not knowing that it had trespassed on someone else's hunting grounds.


	10. Chapter 10

_Sorry for the long wait! For a while there I lost my motivation and sank into a writers block, but thankfully I'm back and ready to continue the battle! There will definitely be many more chapters coming very soon! Thanks to everyone who still reads this, and I hope you enjoy these next parts! :)_

* * *

Back on Elm Street, Loomis is still driving quickly even as the first rays of the sun peer over the horizon and Jackson is found drooling pathetically, his head resting on the car window. Loomis lets out a groan of frustration as he reluctantly admits that Myers is no longer in the vicinity. Carefully parking the car, he glares with annoyance at the not so helpful officer as he continues to snooze, blissfully unaware of his surroundings. Annoyed and disappointed in the young officer, Loomis rolls down the passenger side window, causing Jackson's head to bounce off the door and jerk him back into reality.

"-Huh, what happened? Did we find him?" he panics, eyes flying back and forth until he realizes where he is.

"Now, if you're done with your cat nap, we need to figure out where the heck Myers would have gone." Loomis states with annoyance laced into his gruff voice, as Jackson bristles with guilt and defiance.

"How was I supposed to know he would disappear? I thought we would find him pretty quickly seeing as he leaves a trail of carnage wherever he goes."

Loomis rolls his eyes as he starts the car again, "You cannot predict what evil will do, but you are right about one thing; it leaves a trail of blood."

This only confuses Jackson more as his face scrunches up in confusion as Loomis starts driving in what appears to be a random direction; "so we're just going to allow him to kill innocent people in order to find him in the first place?"

Loomis stays silent for a moment, his hands tightening on the wheel as he responds patiently, "There is no other choice, if we don't take action now and attempt to find it; more people will die, all because we couldn't stop its rampage this Halloween."

Tense silence fills the air between the two, as stretches of road and farms fly by them. Jackson clears his throat as he points out something pretty obvious, "Well, why are we going in a random direction? Suppose we did wait for him to show himself, we could get there faster rather than guess where he'll strike next and be 100 miles away in reality." Loomis sighs wearily as he pulls the vehicle over to rest at a newly built gas station. "I suppose you're right…I am just worried since it has never shown this erratic behavior before, and is making it all the more lethal." he comments as Jackson opens the passenger door and heads straight to the bathrooms, ignoring whatever the old man had said; Jackson wasn't quite sure how sane this doctor was anymore.

His presence flows eerily through the lush forest claiming every tree, every shrub, every person that enters his haunted domain. This was where he was raised, where he died, and where he would live forevermore as something less than human. Most have never heard his name spoken, but the locals know him only as Jason.

The cacophony of twisting metal and the crunching of broken limbs and trunks, followed by the scent of gas and rubber alerted the beast behind the mask that something or someone had just trespassed. Lifeless eyes suddenly alert, his head snaps in the direction of the sounds, a fury and restless hunger rising like flames licking at his broken and rotten heart. His muscular, scarred body turns to match the direction he's gazing in and makes his way through the familiar forest with ease. As he gets closer to the road, his senses roar with the presence of something powerful; a threat. The only sound he makes in response is a loud grunt of annoyance; it was not too long ago that he had to deal with Krueger, a troublesome dream demon. Quickly realizing it couldn't be Krueger, his annoyance turns to guarded curiosity, It wasn't Freddy, so who else could possibly match his power? The stench of fresh metallic blood overcomes his senses as he steps out of the shrubbery and closer to the smoldering wreckage of a totalled car. Before he can get too close however, his sharp eyesight lands on something far more interesting, a strange looking body.

He approaches cautiously, machete held up in the air as the sun glints off its sharp edge ready for any sudden movements of signs of life. The most curious thing about this corpse is the bloodied white mask it is wearing, appearing emotionless and dead; Jason knows the power of a mask though, it defines you, covers the secrets you'd rather not let anyone know. It is with this knowledge and his own experience that Jason let's the mask be, instead focusing on making sure the person is dead. Large gashes cover the corpse, fresh blood still sluggishly spilling from the body, and one arm is twisted in an unnatural position; Jason is ready to leave the guy for dead when he catches the slight rise and fall of the person's chest, and although it is raspy and weak, he can't help but feel the urge to be the one to finish what the guy started. Turning back slowly, he relishes the vulnerability his victim is in, he can't speak, he can't do anything to stop what's coming to him; and if he really was as powerful as his senses say he is...he would be up and fighting by now. Placing a heavy boot on his victims chest he slowly puts pressure, and grunts with pleasure as the sound of ribs cracking fills the air, like twigs snapping. With one last crunch, the man coughs up one last gush of blood that drips from the inside of his mask and falls deathly still, never making a sound of pain or fright. This of course peaks Jason's interest as he leans down to make sure the job is done; but before even he can react, the powerful hand of the Boogeyman wraps around Jason's, his pure black eyes piercing into his attackers soul with a chilling and absolute hatred with a rage that makes Jason's own seem inferior. Caught off guard, the larger man can do nothing as his windpipe is crushed quickly beneath the raging hands of a new opponent and is sent to the ground in a heap, slowly getting back to his feet despite the blood dripping from his throat. Once he is up, he finds himself face to face with this strange new being, eyes blazing darkness as it analyzes him with cold, calculating eyes. Jason returns the glare with a gaze filled with power and might, no longer underestimating his opponent; it's time to see who the real apex predator of these parts is.


	11. Chapter 11

Michael Makes the First Move, analyzing his opponent; he notices his disadvantage when it comes to strength and his already wounded body. However, if he can take away Jason's advantage- his long range- then they might be even.

This decided, Michael takes the initiative, launching himself at Jason's chest and in between Jason's range of motion with the kitchen knife striking a hard blow to Jason's ribs.

Then, as Jason is recovering his breath, Michael disarms him with a powerful blow to the elbow that sends the machete tumbling uselessly onto the grassy floor of the forest

Jason grunts in annoyance, the blow to the ribs long forgotten as he clutches the intruders head between his scarred and furious hands. Cracks resonate from Michael's skull even as Michael pounds away at Jason's neck and shoulders like a jackhammer.

Normally, these blows would be like that of a fly swatter, merely irritating. However Michael's strength is gaining some ground as Jason's grip loosens slowly but surely; his heavy breathing the only sign of his struggle.

Michael takes this opportunity to headbutt Jason, successfully freeing himself from the titan's grip. Michael's hands feel empty without his treasured knife that was thrown from the car, but he makes do with a sharp piece of shrapnel and jabs it into the depths of Jason's mask.

Blood flows sluggishly from Jason's eye sockets as he tears desperately at his face, momentarily blinded.

Grabbing the bloodied machete as he goes, the woods envelop Michael, who knows this is not a proper battle ground, if it wishes to win, it must find a proper weapon.

Jason is not far behind him, as he tears the jagged piece of metal out of his socket with the sound of tearing flesh accompanying the action; his gaze searches for his machete instinctively and is disappointed when he discovers it gone from where he had last seen it.

At that moment, a fury envelops Jason like never before, waves of aggression and determination fueling him for the next encounter. It wasn't going to be a long wait, he would make sure of it.

Michael moves silently through the unfamiliar forest, his gaze wary and alert for any buildings or supplies that he could use to his advantage the next time he runs into the hockey masked behemoth from his earlier encounter. Although bloodied and bruised, his wounds are already beginning to regenerate, his strength remaining at its zenith even with injuries that should have crippled him. But it wasn't human now was it? The animals fall silent and flee into the shrubbery as the inhuman beasts prowl the woods, each armed with different qualities that made them lethal to everyone and everything in their paths; especially now that these two forces of nature were about to meet.

Michael, who by all means is wandering aimlessly in this unfamiliar terrain, finally finds himself in a clearing inhabited by two ramshackle buildings. Each structure is slowly decaying into the earth as time and lack of use take their toll upon the man made structures. Interest peaked, he makes sure to lodge the machete into a nearby tree before stepping inside the larger structure; held up by little more than rotting planks of wood. The door creaks open on rusty hinges, an eerie squeal resonating within the walls as its shadow is outlined in the doorway. Moving swiftly and with purpose, it begins its' search for a weapon more suited to its abilities. Boxes filled with garden tools and useless personal valuables are tossed to the ground in a clatter as it searches for the thing that will meet its needs and gain an advantage. Moments later, silence once again blankets the small space as it raises a sharpened hunting knife closer to its gaze to inspect it. Satisfied, it steps over the debris it had thrown to the ground and exits, knife glinting cruelly in the light.

The moment the intruder exits the abandoned tool shed, Jason swings his reclaimed machete with a force that would slash a mortal in half; anger glowing behind his dark eyes. To his chagrin however, the man catches the movement in his peripheral vision and ducks instinctively. The machete flies harmlessly over the intruder's head, even as the man lunges forwards. The impact hardly jars Jason, instead, he begins slamming the base of his machete against the mystery man's skull like a hammer. A low grunt is all he gets in response as the emotionless masked man shoves him back with impressive strength. Not even Freddy could move the mountain of muscle in his previous fight. With a speed that is incomprehensible to Jason, the masked man slashes at his chest and heart in a rapid succession, pushing him backwards as blood sprays the air before staining the grass. Growling, Jason counters and headbutts Michael. The man stumbles back a few steps before regaining his wits, but that's all the time Jason needs; his machete flashes through the air with deadly precision, and imbeds itself in the intruder's already wounded stomach. Twisting the blade with cruel satisfaction, Jason watches with pleasure as the masked man hunches over slightly, wounds reopening as fresh blood spills onto the ground. Within the next few seconds however, the man strikes back-blade embedding itself in Jason's shoulder and chest.

The two beasts separate, each wounded and weary of the other; Michael constantly tilting his head in thought as he takes the reprieve to calculate what his opponent may do next. Jason meanwhile is thinking over what his previous scuffles had taught him; he knew that the pale man was much faster, seemed smarter, and was experienced with multiple weapons. However, he had the advantage of range; and if he used this right, he might be able to gain the high ground.

This is something it was not expecting, another being so much like it, yet oh so different. The only way it could overpower this huge behemoth is through speed and intellect; there has to be a weakness to this being.

Taking the initiative, Michael throws his knife into its opponents heart, taking the moment to punch Jason squarely across the face-a crack resonating from both the mask and Jason's skull as he stumbles backwards. Another strike to the ribs and the nose effectively leaves Jason dazed. Ripping the machete from Jason's large hands, Michael skewers the blade through the immortal beings heart; momentarily stopping Jason in his tracks as blood gushes from underneath his hockey mask. Raspy breathing resounds from behind Michael's emotionless mask as he gazes down at the killer before him, still alive despite his heart being fatally wounded. This is all new to Michael, it has never before met another like it: immortal, powerful beyond explanation, and evil to the core. It is quite fascinating to the emotionless being.

Quickly recovering, Jason gets back on his feet and thunders towards Michael, a fire raging behind his eyes; Michael raises his knife in preparation, but Jason's machete gets there first. Blade meets skull as the force of the swing snaps Michael's head back, blood pouring from the gash; Michael's eyes close, limp body now sprawled out on the grass as his blood runs out onto the grass, Jason defiantly standing over his motionless opponent in apparent victory. Grunting contentedly, Jason turns back towards his home in the woods, machete slung lazily over his shoulder; confident that the annoyingly durable masked man was now dead.

Unbeknownst to Jason, the other rises creepily into a sitting position, black eyes shining in the light with a dangerous glint; It won't be bested again, it has a plan.


	12. Chapter 12

Officer Jackson is gone not a minute before Loomis's cell phone begins ringing harshly, the high pitched squeal an annoying but necessary alarm. Frowning, Loomis hesitates; his mind divided over whether or not the call could be significant. With a sigh, he answers, his entire body tense with fear and anticipation.

"Hello? Is this Samuel Loomis?" the rough female voice on the other end of the line inquires.

Loomis replies tersely, "Yes, please state your business, I am currently dealing with a severe situation, and I am in quite the hurry."

Coughing awkwardly on the other end, the stranger quickly gets to business, "Yes well, what I have to tell you pertains to your so-called situation-" Bad reception interrupts the conversation for a moment before the line clears. "So, as I was saying, we believe Michael stole said car and crashed near Crystal Lake, New Jersey where police discovered the wreckage."

The news stuns Loomis, how was it possible that Michael was already in New Jersey? More importantly why? What could motivate a being such as Michael to abandon his original goals so suddenly? His silence fills the air for what seems like several minutes before he concludes the call, "Thank you...I shall keep that in mind."

Shaking his head, he closes his eyes to concentrate; he needs to piece together the pieces of the puzzle he has gathered so far. The killings and disappearances all started when Michael escaped from his prison underground, which was a result of his failure to kill Jamie, his niece. So why wouldn't she be his first target? Michael was not one to play around; he always went for the kill; which was precisely why he had stationed officers around her house once word of his escape had reached his ears. There must be another factor here, a factor that is perhaps manipulating Michael into making different decisions. This missing factor is troubling considering that Michael IS pure evil, an evil that cannot easily be swayed to one side or another. Figuring out who or what that factor is, would have to be solved later.

Once out of Haddonfield, Michael then headed towards an unknown destination, stopping at a gas station perhaps to steal a vehicle; murdering every occupant in the process. That spree was out of necessity. To get where Michael was planning to go, he needed a car, so it must have been some distance away. Again though, why? Finding or discovering that destination may be vital to unlocking the mystery surrounding the present. It might be a clue as to why Michael is behaving so erratically.

There is a significant gap than between what we know, and what is currently happening. From the unknown destination, Michael must have stolen another vehicle and crashed it in Crystal Lake, New Jersey; Nothing is known in this span of time, and if investigated, it too might answer a few questions. What happened? Who was involved?

Jerked from his reverie, Loomis glares at Jackson as he reenters the vehicle quite loudly, slamming the car door behind him as he does so.

He immediately notices the look on Loomis's worn face, "What is that face for? Were you in the middle of something?" Jackson verbally throws back to Loomis, undoubtedly aware of Loomis's feelings towards him.

Loomis sighs, rubbing his forehead in frustration before he replies, "I was attempting to piece together this mess of a situation. No matter, we know where we have to go to next."

"We do?"

"Yes, I just received a call while you were dilly-dallying in the gas station that informed me that Michael stole a registered car and crashed it near Crystal Lake, New Jersey. Now hurry up and get your seat belt on." Loomis retorts, annoyance clearly written across his face.

Startled, Jackson is shocked into silence as the car starts moving once again. What is up with this old man?

Down below, in the depths of the earth itself, lies a prison made of machinery; boilers pump, and steam clogs the air with an acrid stench. Pipes groan and squeal as the one, and only Freddy Krueger paces back and forth ceaselessly, his claws scraping harshly against the barren walls of his prison. Rage seeps out of his soul in waves of fury, his entire plan of escape and revenge thwarted by a mere man wearing a mask-once again. His constant murmuring and growling fills the toxic air with obscene words accompanied by foul gestures as he continues to pace.

"Of course that fucker can't die, and of course he had to make things more complicated than they were initially meant to be!-" Pausing, he flexes his claws in frustration before resuming his mindless rant. " If those two don't tear each other to bloody pieces, I fucking swear! Now I have two problems to deal with, brainless hockey puck and an overzealous trick or treater! Unless..."

An awful thought begins to form in his twisted mind, the two annoyingly powerful beings are currently at each other's throats, for the time being, neither seeming to have an advantage over the other. However, if he could find another source, a source with enough knowledge of Michael perhaps than maybe he could tip the scale in his favor. With this thought in mind, his eyes light up as he comes to a sudden realization; there is only one person who genuinely seems to understand the depths of Michael's evil, and has attempted to defeat the beast with clever tricks. Doctor Samuel Loomis. Smirking with satisfaction, he uses his surroundings to make a phone appear in his hands, Loomis's number already entered.

"Poor old fool, you're going to become my tool in this game of bloodlust. Poor bastard." Freddy chuckles, proud of the plan he has concocted from the depths of his ingenious mind. Time to enact part one; with a flash of his fiery eyes, Freddy forcefully changes his voice into that of a ladies', rough with a tinge of age dappled into it.

The phone rings quietly as the dream demon waits in anticipation for his latest pawn to answer, eager excitement flowing through his bloodless, deadened veins. Once the click of the line is heard, he launches into his planned spiel, with the voice altered to that of the woman, "Hello? Is this Samuel Loomis?"

Loomis immediately answers, his voice strained and annoyed, "Yes, please state your business, I am currently dealing with a severe situation, and I am in quite the hurry."

As Loomis is talking, Freddy rolls his eyes and thinks, 'well of course he is.' A smile tugs at his lips as he continues on despite the rude retort. "Yes well, what I have to tell you pertains to your so-called situation-" Bad reception interrupts the conversation for a moment before the line clears. "So, as I was saying, we believe Michael stole said car and crashed near Crystal Lake, New Jersey where police discovered the wreckage."

Silence fills the line for several moments in which Freddy is silently laughing at the naivety of this supposed doctor. 'Man, it's hard to believe that this is the same doctor that has hunted down Myers for years and still lives.' he chuckles to himself, and within seconds Loomis thanks him and quickly ends the call.

"Now-" Freddy snarls, "Now it's time to enact part two of this marvelous plan.' It only takes moments for Krueger to arrive where he can plant the seeds of manipulation and distrust, his toothy grin flashing as he does the deed and gloats over yet another pawn in his game.

"Oh Jackson, your mind is like that of clay, so pliable and stretchy...it would be a shame if someone were to rearrange it, wouldn't it? Well don't worry my newfound friend, Uncle Freddy will take good care of your fleshy mind!" Krueger cackles, claws swinging into the cracks of the officer's mind, rendering the young man utterly vulnerable to the wishes of Freddy Krueger; the man who haunted the dreams of the children of Elm Street.


	13. Chapter 13

For Myers, this trivial defeat was nothing more than a learning experience- an experiment to test his opponent's strengths and weaknesses against his own. All in all, he has uncovered quite a few things about this rotting man of fraying flesh and sinew; his long range was indeed something to be wary of, as well as his size and weight-shown by how quickly he could reach Myers with that infamous machete. However, he also tended to lumber, preferring to attack rather than defend-something Michael could efficiently exploit the next time the two titans of horror clashed. The critical thing to note was his adversaries appearance, the scarred and rotten flesh reflecting previous experiences in which he regenerated and healed- much like Michael. If they had this in common, perhaps the machete-wielding hunter also had a weakness when it came to the brain being damaged. It wouldn't necessarily bring him down permanently, but it would definitively give Myers the win for the time being.

Chest rising and falling in the crisp, late-night forest, Michael glares heatedly in the direction his enemy disappeared, a pitiless and chilling thirst for this new foe's spilled blood rising from the depths of his twisted heart. Never before has it lost, and surely it was not about to disrupt that streak just because this being had similar powers of evil.

Standing up effortlessly, The Shape retrieves its weapon and begins the trek back to the road and away from the territorial being known as Jason Voorhees to jumpstart its' plan of conquering this decaying masked man for good. Its heavy footsteps masked by the soft grassy terrain, it moves with unmatched fluidity as it retraces its previous steps back to the wreckage of his substitute vehicle. Cold satisfaction flashes in its ocean black eyes, as it regards the spilled gasoline now covering not only the concrete but the shrubbery as well. What better maneuver than to smoke the behemoth out of his own territory and into unfamiliar surroundings? That way, both would be at an equal disadvantage when it came to knowing the region. The first flicker of flames is reflected in its glossy, lifeless eyes as it gazes on in child-like curiosity mingled with swelling rage as the inferno grows within a matter of seconds, engulfing the surrounding shrubbery and licking the trees. It knows it will do whatever it takes to maintain its status as an unrelenting, unyielding, and supernatural murderer of hundreds.

As he trods forwards, Michael's ever-shifting thoughts turn back to the being who commenced these events in the first place. Freddy Krueger. During their latest struggle, Krueger had made several snarky and crude remarks about a "Hockey Puck." Considering that its most recent encounter consisted of a beast wearing a tattered hockey mask, chances are that this man is most likely the Hockeypuck mentioned. This produces another fascinating detail; Freddy Krueger has manipulated this masked man before with similar results to his current manipulation of Myers. Except, Michael had purposely pissed off the dream demon, eradicating his chances of returning to Elm Street soon. There was a hidden rivalry between the two that needed exploiting. Cocking his bloody face to one side, Myers contemplates its next move; for Jason will soon be flushed out into the open by the fire and smoke, and Freddy hasn't made an appearance since their last brawl. If Michael wishes to utilize their hatred for each other, it needs to lure Freddy towards Jason.

The rumbling groan of an engine growing closer shatters Michael's intricate thoughts, as it instinctively slinks into the natural shadows that have always hidden him. Watching with calculating eyes, it immediately takes note of the passengers in the vehicle; one of whom is too familiar. Loomis. If glares could kill, Loomis would surely be melted by the intensity of the hatred in Myer's glossy eyes. It was now evident to Myers that Loomis had become a part of this battle between supernatural beings, but in what capacity? That question was quickly answered when the lingering laugh of Krueger cackled from somewhere within the moving automobile. It appears as if Krueger has come to him.

The night passes quickly, the soft noises of the night-life slowly slip away as the sun begins to rise from its slumber. An imposing figure, still covered with the blood of his enemies as well as himself, follows the road in which Loomis and a stranger had taken not long before. Intense energy can be felt wafting from the figure as it draws ever nearer to its destination; the entrance to Camp Crystal Lake, where Jason would undoubtedly be smoked out at if everything went according to plan. For who can outsmart the one and only Boogyman?

 _Heya everybody! Just here to say that I cannot wait for the new Halloween movie to come out, it looks true to the original film and the mask is just so eery! I hope it doesn't stray in an odd direction. Anyways, I hope you all have a spooktacular October and enjoy this chapter! ^^_


	14. Chapter 14

Crystal Lake, New Jersey is a small town as Loomis discovers; inhabited mostly by people looking to live off the grid and away from the hustle of city life. Decaying store-fronts and ramshackle structures litter the community as nature gradually invades the bland, lifeless town in an attempt to recover what was lost to man. Wrinkled hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel, Loomis observes this with a few glances, his mind centered on merely finding IT. As time soars on, he begins to notice a distinct change in the atmosphere; dark rolling clouds of ink-black smoke rises in the distance as the air grows steadily thicker.

"Crap, it appears that a forest fire has sprung up. We'll have to take a long way around." Jackson frowns, worry smothering his facial features.

Loomis grunts with frustration, before scoffing "This is no natural fire; if that were the case, we would have been notified quite a while ago. This one erupted abruptly, almost certainly fueled by an accelerant."

"You mean gasoline?"

Loomis shrugs, continuing to drive down the cracked pavement towards the inferno. "Possibly, that is the most common; however, I meant that someone or something may have intentionally created this blazing fire."

Doubtful, Jackson voices his reluctance "That's quite a leap of judgment doctor, there are plenty of other ways in which a fire can be ignited."

"Logic and science do not apply to Michael, he is a force beyond any set rule or principal if you don't acknowledge that, we have no hope of stopping it. However, since you're so doubtful, there should be some officials up ahead who can confirm or deny this theory."

Moments later, Loomis places a crowd of police vehicles and several fire-engines. The smoke is dense, but not yet lethal or suffocating as the car pulls alongside a cruiser. Immediately, a stern veteran of the force comes to address the two trespassers. "Men, we need you to evacuate the area. Although the fire is now controlled, the area is still dangerous to those within it."

Ignoring the warning, Loomis exits the car, slamming the door behind him. "This is urgent, I can assure you. Did there happen to be a wreck nearby? We're tracking the person who was driving a vehicle that was reported to have been crashed in the vicinity."

The older gentleman fixes Loomis with an iron glare before relinquishing, "Yes, in fact, it was a car wreck that ignited the flames behind us. There's not much left but twisted metal and charred ashes of branches, foliage, and whatever unlucky critters were living nearby when this thing went off."

Nodding thoughtfully, Loomis asks the revealing question, "Any human remains inside the wreckage?"

The officer shrugs, "Not as far as we can tell, like I told you, everything but the metal frame was incinerated."

"So it's possible the occupants escaped?"

"It's possible, but with the kind of crash it takes to cause leakage and fire, they're most likely wounded."

A deep frown burrows itself into Loomis's already aged skin, the worry and fear taking root in his dark thoughts. Grumbling behind the pair, Jackson interrupts the conversation, "The probability of Michael even being in New Jersey is low, to begin with, doctor, let alone even in this specific vehicle! We need physical proof of Myers location, not just a hunch."

Shocked by Jackson's sudden trepidation and anger, Loomis urges him back into the car. "We'll talk about this in private, but right now I need to get that so-called physical evidence so just give me a moment."

Straightening up, Loomis turns back to the officer who appears unruffled by the entire conversation going on before him. "Sorry sir, my partner and I have been on the road for a while now. If I may ask, is there any town near here?"

"If you're looking for a fugitive, and that person did escape the vehicle, then they're most likely headed towards Camp Crystal Lake as we speak. It closed down decades ago, but there are still quite a few cabins and structures left from when it was a summer camp; however, if I were you, I would never set foot on that cursed ground, let's just say it has a history of its own, a history that is still unfolding to this day."

Loomis shakes the man's hand firmly, "Thank you for your help sir, and for your warning."

Pulling away from the site, gravel and dust drift lazily in the air as the officer, and his men return their attention to fire-control. Their focus should have been placed elsewhere.

Lurking behind well-placed machinery, a pair of distant, icy eyes follows each and every movement, the cogs and wheels of his mechanical-like mind turning flawlessly in his mind as a plan to eradicate the humans in his path forms. Muscles primed for action, it steps forward stealthily, covering ground swiftly as it reaches for a ladder; pulling itself upwards with the grace of a feline, it is only a matter of unlocking the brake and putting the vehicle into neutral before chaos ensues down below.

Inching forward ever-so-slowly, nobody notices the spare firetruck moving until it is far too late. Rolling at a steady pace on the incline, the large wheels plow into two men helping hold the firehose; the sounds of bones cracking and muscles tearing can be heard by everybody in the vicinity as the unfortunate victims cries faintly died away. Organs and excessive amounts of blood now stain the spot where they stood. Still moving, the other eight men on the hose are able to dodge out of the way of the runaway vehicle as it hurtles into three parked trucks. Metal grinds and groans as two of the cars are crushed and ground into the pavement with an ear-piercing squeal, four more men trapped and buried by the glinting metal. Coming to a stop on top of the third truck, chaos ensues as workers attempt to save those injured by the devastating accident. Numerically, there are still far too many men here to kill by hand, it would be almost too easy for them to call the police force. The Shape has never been deterred by the odds, and it will not bow before these uniformed cowards now.

Slipping between vehicles with a grace much like that of a cat, he remains invisible to wandering eyes; gradually making his way towards a fallen power line still blazing with electricity. However, it would have been a miracle if nobody ran into Myers while he was enacting his plan; and unfortunately for two men, they had wandered into the path of evil incarnate.

The two workers were still filled with adrenaline as they struggled to contain the situation, and found themselves bumping into something rather substantial. Unjarred, Michael swings his knife at one of the tender and vulnerable throats before him; and as the man falls with heaving gasps, he wraps the other hand around the other's with cobra-like precision before the guy has a chance to sound an alarm. As his coworker lies choking upon his own blood, body spasming in one last dance of life, the man can only find himself lost within the depths of this creature's eyes. For one agonizing moment, his own twisted reflection is reflected back into his own soul; as a corrupt, damaged image of who he is and what he could be, as if it is calling out to him.

The call is interrupted by the sound of vertebrae snapping and crunching, blood spurting from the poor man's mouth as his head hangs at an awkward angle. The Shape gives the men little thought, dropping their now meaningless corpses to the cement as he quietly retrieves a pair of insulated electricians gloves from a compartment on the side of one of the engines. Another few feet and he is now in the range of the broken lines holding such immense power, it is now only a matter of the electricity meeting the water that soaks the ground upon which the men stand. Using the gloves he borrowed earlier, it is all too easy for him to toss the lines towards the unsuspecting men walking around like ants under the orders of a queen.

Immediately, the magic begins as the electricity arcs towards every living and non-living being in its radius and reach. Chatter turns to pain, then to complete and utter agony as they begin to fry from the inside out; mouths foam and screams become wails of despair as one by one, they fall. Their bodies spasm and twitch as the current flows through their now lifeless bodies, slowly turning their flesh to charred, thin sticks of nothingness, never again to hold their loved ones. For Michael, the silence is bliss; it is now time to find his mysterious attacker once again.


End file.
